Crafty Child

Bright-eyed young girl,
Curious and crafty,
Let’s start a project and learn to crochet.

Tiring quickly,
She abandoned the lesson.
She couldn’t see past the first stitch-
Obsessed with chains, with growing taller,
The neverending line of connection
So easily unfurled.

Chains, chains, chains.
Chains everywhere and every day.
Quickly and carefully created by this crafty girl
And unraveled even faster,
The impermanence of childhood
Displayed through her repetitive ritual.

She lost interest as quickly
As any other once-inspired child,
And many years without crocheted chains passed
Before a spark of inspiration woke her from her daze.

Timid hands picked up threadbare yarn, dusted with age.
Fingers moved as if possessed,
Creating chains came so easily
And her inner child was elated by the familiarity
Of her once daily routine.

The desire to unwind, to unfurl
Pulled so strong within her,
But the necessity
To create, to give life, to build something that matters
Overcame all else.

She kept making chains.
She made chains and then kept working.
She kept building on the foundation
To create something strong
Something useful
Something beautiful for herself.
For herself, she kept creating.

Prodigy

Fate took control

A force to be noted

Unfolded from the start

Of an unknown tune-

A pick against taut strings

Rock the house of our future

Transforming into a dance floor,

Den of movement,

For which we travel through

Until the court rules

Whether our lives

Will be forever intertwined.

 

Poor Choices

On my own again

Stranded on an island

Of my thoughts-

The waters that surround me

Are currents of my memories,

Swirling whirlpools of chaos

Keeping me isolated.

 

I can’t escape

The dangerous waves of

“What ifs”

Formed with the wind and the choices of my past-

But I’ll construct

My escape from this godforsaken island

With a study raft of good intentions

And move forward on unsteady waters

To a new world yet unexplored.

Work in Progress

Vivid white paper

Stands out against dark lines

Waiting to be written upon.

Words may come

Words may be erased

But thoughts are never ending.

This time,

Write in pen

To immortalize your intentions.

Take action to show improvement-

As all living things

Are a work in progress.

Fighting For Freedom

Age-old stories of coming to America

With nothing but minuscule amounts of money

To determine worth

And sell your soul.

How can you free yourself

From societal binds and pressures

Without first succumbing to them?

Monopolize your time

Build properties on your day to day life

And watch them come tumbling down

With every step forward that you make.

Has the patriarchy crushed you?

What about all the world’s woes?

When are we free

If we have done nothing to fight?

Lace your shoes tight

And fight with your sole-

Getting closer to your goal

Step by step.

 

Finding Myself

Exhausted with potential interests

I bury myself deep

Layers upon layers of comfort

Holding me back from exploring.

A fire burns within me

But my cold emotions seek solace.

Envy’s seeds are planted within,

A hint that spring is coming.

How do I plant seeds of hope instead?

I want to change along with the seasons

But what can I do

To break free from old habits

To explore new possibilities

And to find myself whole?

Martians

What would our lives

Involve on a planet

We evolved to survive?

Are our current threats

Legitimate concerns, or

Have we grown numb

To the harsh realities

Of survival?

Has luxurious living

Weakened our instincts?

Would we be able to

Adapt and thrive

Or would we be

A cautionary tale

Of the dangers of comfort?

Snow Flurries

Your chilled heart

Races through the wind

To surround me.

Your tender kisses

On my cheeks melt,

A lingering damp greeting.

Let me warm you

As I mold your body

With my fingertips

Until the chill makes them numb-

You’re so beautiful,

I can’t resist the urge

To touch.

Passed

I wonder

What my life would be

Had I never met you.

It would have been bliss

Not to endure

The lie, fights, pain

And ignorance.

But where would I be today

If I hadn’t been

By your side

When no one else was?

Would I know how

To support myself and others?

Would I love to teach growth?

Would I love to heal

Tender wounds with tender words?

Are these traits

Ingrained in me

Or were they gifts from the past?

 

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Ocean Waves, Part 1

I yearn to be in your presence,

Feel the warmth you provide

Just from being near.

 

Cleanse my soul

While I drink in your essence

Upon my return

And soak you in.

 

I promise to visit soon

And we’ll converse

In our own language-

A code

Made up

Of whispers and secrets-

I’ll tell you of all my travels

And listen to your tales

Of everything you’ve witnessed

From around the world.

 

I can’t wait to see you again…

I’ll catch a glimpse of you in the distance

And you’ll wave,

Just like you always do,

Welcoming me home.

 

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Please consider making a donation to support more great content. Any donation is greatly appreciated!

$5.00